


mafs oneshot: choose love

by kittymills



Series: married at first sight [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, Modern Setting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, allura is a doctor, allurance, keith and lance friendship, lance and allura getting together fic, lance says the g word, mafs au verse, mafs prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 20:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17210501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymills/pseuds/kittymills
Summary: It's a running joke between them for years that at the end of every week, Lance asks Allura out on a date and Allura always says no.Until one time... she doesn't.Or... the moment Lance & Allura made it offical





	mafs oneshot: choose love

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I wanted to immortalize how Lance and Allura finally became a couple in mafs. It's been floating around in the back of my head for ages but after s8 I wanted more than anything to write it out.  
> Set about threeish years before the main story

At the end of his shift, Keith leans against the side of one of the helicopters now silent on the tarmac. There’s a faint scent of oil in the air but the salt on the wind is stronger. It billows gently against him, ruffling his hair as he takes in the slow slide of the sun beyond the horizon. It’s been a long shift and he’s finally taking a moment to catch his breath when Lance finds him.

“Hey man,” Lance says, approaching on silent feet and settling in to lean beside him. Like Keith, he’s still wearing his dark blue Careflight uniform, now looking a little rumpled and worse for wear at this end of the day. “You okay?”

Keith glances at him briefly before turning back to the view in front of him. In the distance, a jetliner takes off, carrying passengers into the skies.

“Yeah,” Keith nods. “I’m good.”

“There were some hairy ones today, huh.”

Keith snorts quietly at Lance’s quietly murmured assessment. Hairy didn’t begin to describe it. They were only into their second year on the job and Keith wasn’t sure if they’d ever get used to it.

“Yeah, it was. You heading home soon?”

“Yep,” Lance shifts beside him. He seems like he has more to say so Keith stays quiet. “I actually have a date with Allura.”

Keith’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah? Well it’s about time.”

Lance makes a small noncommittal sound beside him. Keith gives him a suspicious glance but before he can probe, Lance is sighing heavily. Considering he’s about to go on a date with the woman he’s been not so secretly in love with for two years, he doesn’t look particularly thrilled about it.

“I’m… I’m thinking I’m going to cancel.”

Keith’s head snaps up. “What? Why would you cancel? You’ve been asking Allura out weekly for a year.”

“Yeah,” Lance frowns. “But it was just a running gag between us. I never actually expected her to say yes!”

Keith sighs. “She likes you, idiot.”

“What? Did she say something to you?”

“No,” Keith shoves him lightly. “but she doesn’t need to.”

Lance stares off into the distance. The sunset is wanning now, turning into dusk. For the first time, Keith realises just how serious Lance is.

“What do I even say, Keith?” Lance says, his voice rough. “I really care about her. It don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Just be yourself,” Keith shrugs.

Lance scowls then, rounding on Keith.

“What? No! Keith, that’s terrible advice! Have you _met_ me?”

Keith’s small snicker turns into an outright laugh at his friend’s indignation. He can’t help doubling over but as he does so, the scowl on Lance’s face morphs into a slight twist of his lips that might be a smile. He goes as far as to kick Keith’s foot with his boot and when Keith manages to look up from under his hair, there’s a definite answering laugh to meet him.

“It’s going to be fine, Lance,” Keith assures him. They both stare off into the sunset then Lance sneaks a glance at him.

“Thanks Keith.”

 

* * *

 

It’s a pleasure to finally be able to wear something other than her uniform, Allura thinks to herself that evening. She takes her time to apply makeup, clipping something sparkly around her wrist and piling her platinum strands on top of her head with pins so that loose tendrils fall about her face.

It was one of the reasons she had been looking forward to tonight so much, one of the reasons she finally allowed herself to say yes to Lance’s playful requests. It’s been so long since she’s had a chance to dress the way she likes, to feel pretty and young, carefree – a chance to push away the prevailing heaviness of the work she does. As a critical care doctor, she was often exhausted by time she got home and her dreams were often just replays of her day, rehashing every decision, every choice she made. Was it the right call? Could she have done more? Did she follow procedure? Would the smell of blood ever leave her nose?

Often, she woke up feeling as though she hadn’t slept at all and while she relished the challenge of her work, she found herself yearning to let her hair down, to take a chance to trust someone again. To open her heart again to friendship, and maybe even a little bit more.

It’s been two years but the memory of her past breakup still stung. It had been her first love, and she had given everything freely and without holding even the smallest part of herself back. For three years, she gave up everything to her studies and to him then on her twenty second birthday, he had left her without a backwards glance, shattering her heart, her hopes and her dreams for the future she was sure they were going to have together.

She threw herself into her work and found a path that offered her something that was demanding, all consuming. The focus shifted, towards the good she could do, the

The family that had started to form around her. Careflight was a small organisation, their team was small, tight knit and supportive. They all worked hard, they all dedicated so much of themselves.

But lately she started to wonder if she was giving too much, letting her role take too much from her. Struggling to find a way to curve her lips upwards in the rare, peaceful moments between missions that her colleagues would joke around in an effort to melt the heaviness away.

Then one day, in spite of herself, Lance had made her smile. The smile had felt foreign on her lips and it occurred to her… She had almost forgotten how to have fun.

So, when he had teasingly suggested a date for the umpteenth time, she had surprised both of them by saying yes before he’d even finished asking the question.

“Uh,” he’d said, blinking. He pointed to himself, clearly startled. “Are you sure? You want to go on a date?”

“Yes.”

“Like, a date date? With me?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t help but laugh at the slightly bewildered expression on his face. It was true she had rebuffed him numerous times in the past, unsure of his true intentions and unwilling to take another chance with her heart. In the early days, he’d been all bluster and cringe worthy pick up lines but the longer they worked alongside each other, the more she’d seen a different side to him. The real Lance, and there was so much more to him than the jovial, slightly dense persona he liked to present.

She discovers he’s sweet and funny and he looks at her like she has more to offer the world than just what they can squeeze from her. He looks at her and sees her as she is.

She slides in her earrings, sparkling diamonds gifted to her the day she had graduated by her father and steps back, fluffing her hair and casting a critical eye over herself in the mirror. Her dress is simple, a pale pink silk that settles nicely against her dark skin and gorgeous high heels she’s sure will make her regret her choice by the end of the night. She smooths the material down once more then takes a deep breath to still the anxious flutter of her heart then walks out into the night to meet her date.

 

* * *

 

It figures that even when she leaves her work at work, it still follows her home and sniffs around the edges of her life. Occasionally she wishes she could turn it off like a switch, just to have a few hours peace but it never seems to work that way. It’s as though the universe knows who she is, what she can do and sends those in need of help directly to her.

And that’s how she finds herself kneeling on the sidewalk beside an elderly woman, gently cradling a very swollen and possibly broken wrist. She’d also hit her head on the way down, clipping it against the bus shelter she had been waiting at and cutting her forehead open until blood ran brightly down her face and over her hands.

Allura does her best to ignore the runs in her stockings from the sidewalk, vowing to mourn her beautiful silky thigh highs she’d bought on a whim months ago and never had the chance to wear later. She ignores the dark smears on her dress just as she ignores the dismay that tries to creep inside her chest at the unhappy start to her evening.

At lease she wasn’t alone.

Lance also kneels nearby, having arrived to meet her just as the commotion started. He has a phone to his ear, talking to dispatch to make sure an ambulance is on their way as the elderly woman’s head rests in his lap.

“Okay, great, thanks. We’re with her for now, but she’s in a lot of pain,” he’s saying, just as the flicker of red and blue lights splash over the buildings down the street. The sirens blip a few times, giving cars and pedestrians alike the chance to move out of the way and before they know it, the on-duty paramedics are hopping out of the rig and taking over.

“Thanks, ma’am, sir, we’re got it from here. You should try to enjoy the rest of your evening,” one of the paramedics says regretfully as they lift their patient onto the stretcher and whisk her away. Allura climbs to her feet and resists the urge to snort.

The ambulance drives off and the crowd disperses, until it’s just herself and Lance standing on the sidewalk. He turns to her, his face apologetic, as though it was his fault the elderly lady had toppled right in front of her just moments ago. It wasn’t, of course. He’d only arrived a few minutes later but it didn’t stop him from dropping to his knees to assist her, speaking calmly to their patient with gentle reassurances as Allura performed an examination as best she could without any of standard her equipment on hand.

He looks at her sadly. “Your dress,” he says with disappointment.

“Your shirt,” she responds, staring at what might be a blood stain on his side.

Lance’s frown gets deeper when he glances up at the digital billboards looming over the street behind her. Cars zip past and the breeze feels stifling and hot. His face falls.

“Our reservation.”

She turns to look up, noticing the time they had made their reservation at the sleek, modern and in high demand restaurant had long since passed. She waits for the flicker of disappointment to wash over her but strangely it’s not there.

She turns back, allowing her gaze to roam over the man beside her. She had been looking forward to spending more time with Lance, more than she let herself admit, and somehow the idea of sitting in a posh restaurant opposite him never seemed to gel quite right. He would be too reserved in an environment like that, and so would she if she was honest with herself. She’d grown up dining in fancy establishments with her father, they were stuffy and restrained and well… boring.

All things that she could never associate with Lance.

“I’m not sure I would have enjoyed the restaurant anyway,” she says, only to see a shadowed expression fall across Lance’s face.

“Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He hasn’t moved any closer to her, still standing under the glow of a street light. “Okay, that’s… that’s fine. We could take a raincheck until you feel better. Or, you know, not… if you’ve changed your mind.”

She blinks rapidly then lets out a small laugh. “Oh, Lance, no you misunderstand. I only mean that perhaps something more casual would be better tonight. I don’t need a fancy restaurant to spend time with you.”

Lance half looks like he’s about to protest, but also somewhat pleased at the same time. He drops his hand and his mouth quirks up in a smile.

“Yeah? You still want to have this date?”

She looks at him, taking in the blue of his eyes and the hopeful light in them. He looks at her like she’s the answer to all his questions but it’s not in the hungry way she’s used to from other men. He looks at her like he can’t quite believe she’s real, like he wants to touch her hair and make her smile just to see what the sound of her laugh is like.

She likes how he looks at her, in a way she never thought she would. It warms her inside where she’s been cold for a long time.

“I do,” she says softly and she’s rewarded by Lance’s face splitting into a wide grin and he goes as far as throwing a fist into the air before snapping it back against his body.

“Alright! Woo! She still wants to have this date,” he happily tells a couple walking past he has no hope of knowing. They laugh at his exuberance and so does Allura before she glances down and realises her dress is dirty and there are runs in her stockings.

Her smile fades. 

“Perhaps I should go home to change first,” she says, smoothing a palm over the dark smudge on her skirt.

Lance waves her off. “Nah, that will take too much time. Besides, I know a place we can go where it won’t matter what we wear.”

She raises a fine eyebrow. “Oh? And where is that?”

Lance takes a small step forward. It’s not enough to get into her personal space and a small part of her is almost disappointed by that. Another part of her is grateful too. She doesn’t want to rush this.

“Down by the river they’ve got a festival going, something to celebrate the new moon or something, I’m not quite sure. But there’s rides and games and food trucks and it seems like it might be a lot of fun. What do you think?”

He looks so excited his enthusiasm is infectious. He senses her hesitation and waits patiently for a moment before offering his arm and wriggling his eyebrows over a silly grin.

It makes her laugh and without any more hesitation, she links her arm with his and they walk towards the river.

 

* * *

 

She loses track of how long they spend at the festival. There’s a stage where a band plays upbeat songs and rows of food stalls lit by strung up lanterns and fairy lights in the trees. The crowd is thick and slow moving and Lance takes the lead, pushing through the throng of people until they’ve managed to circle around at least once. He holds her hand so they don’t get separated and the touch of his palm on hers makes her heart flutter strangely in her chest.

“What about this one?” he suggests when they pause. The crowd ebbs and flows around them and the air is so fragrant with spices her stomach growls and her face heats. She turns away quickly hoping Lance didn’t hear it over the chatter and the music.

“It smells delicious,” she says and she has to raise her voice slightly so he can hear her over the noise. He grins at her and tugs on her hand, making her stumble slightly but then they’re moving again and she realises they’re in the line for one of the food stalls.

The line moves slowly and she finds herself standing close to Lance so they don’t lose their spot.

“You know, I didn’t get a chance to tell you before but you look beautiful tonight,” he tells her.  Somehow her hands still rests in his, just a lose grasp and when he gives her a rueful smile and rubs a thumb over the back of her palm, she finds herself staring at his lips and wondering what it would feel like to kiss him.

“Oh,” she flushes after a moment, ducking her head. Her heart kicks up it’s fluttering beat behind her rib cage. She’s no stranger to compliments but somehow the soft way Lance tells her makes her feel warm. “Thank you.”

“Pink, huh?” he says again, smiling and for an instant she’s confused as to what he means until he dips his head and nods at her shoulder. It takes another instant for her to realise he’s talking about her dress. “Not what I was expecting, but I like it.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I’m not sure, I’ve only seen you in your uniform or in black,” he shrugs. “I get it, dark colours hide the stains.”

She doesn’t get a chance to ask him to elaborate before it’s their turn and he drops her hand in order to dig his wallet out of his back pocket. She’s too hungry to decide on what she wants so she happily lets him order for her, something that seems to make him immeasurably pleased only to prove not necessarily the wisest when they end up with more food than they can carry.

“Not quite foie gras,” Lance says ruefully as he holds the containers.

“I don’t need foie gras,” Allura assures him and they share a small smile.

They manage to find a table nearby, away from the crush of the crowds and they spend some time sampling the food Lance had ordered.

He compares it between mouthfuls to his mothers cooking and she finds herself falling into the warmth of his enjoyment as he talks about his family. He loves them dearly, she can tell and as he regales her with a few tales of sibling rivalry (where he always comes out on top, of course) she notices a small ache starting to bloom inside her chest. Deep inside, right where her heart is.

It takes her a long moment to realise she’s envious.

 

* * *

 

They sit and listen to the music for a little while too but it’s hard to talk amongst all the noise so they duck away to where a row of rides and games is nestled under an archway of tree branches. It’s noisy here too, but more from the bells and dings of the arcade. Lance volunteers to win her something sparkly, only to crash and burn on every game he tries. He declares later in mortification that the games must be rigged then his eyes almost fall out of his head when she soundly beats one of the shooting games and comes away with a stuffed blue lion clutched tightly in her hands.

“I don’t know if I should be proud or scared right now,” he tells her, eyeing the plush toy in amazement. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

She smiles and hands him the lion. “Beginners luck,” she murmurs and he nudges the lion back towards her.

“I don’t know about that.” He points at the toy. “You have to keep it. Maybe it will help you remember the night we’ve had and what a crap shot I am. Totally did that on purpose, by the way.”

She laughs again and hugs the lion to her chest. She doesn’t think she’ll need it to remember tonight but she’s going to treasure it all the same.

 

* * *

 

Her feet are starting to hurt by the time they walk down to the river and leave the festival behind but she’s enjoying herself too much to want to call an end to the night just yet.

And Lance… he doesn’t seem to want it to end yet either.

In the distance, the music from the festival floats on the airwaves, muted but still discernible. She doesn’t realise the tune that’s playing until Lance stops in his tracks and turns to her.

“Hey, it’s our song.”

She slows and lays a hand against the railing. The water laps at the bank below them, light kisses against the rock wall. One of the small public ferries chugs past on near silent motors, disturbing the water’s surface so the reflections of the city on the water’s surface shatter and shimmer into a cacophony of colour.

Out here, away from the festival, they’re alone in the darkness. Lance’s eyes glow and he’s holding out a hand to her.

“Our song?” she says momentarily confused. She wasn’t sure they had a song.

“Yes, from the competition,” he tells her. When she gingerly lays her hand in his outstretched palm, he draws her close.

She doesn’t resist.

He’s warm against her, warm against the cool breeze that flicks off the river and causes the long strands of her hair to billow out and flutter against them. A few strands stick to his shirt and she finds herself staring at that instead of raising her gaze to meet his.

“Do you still remember the steps?” he asks with a grin and then his warmth is suddenly gone as he takes a step back. “It was a while ago now.”

She forces herself to concentrate on the music echoing down instead of the way her heart gasps weakly in her chest. It does sound familiar and it reminds her of the first time Lance had really captured her attention, the first time they’d spent time together outside of work. Keith had been there too, so had Rolo and Nyma but on the dancefloor, it had just been Lance.

“I remember,” she says, the memory coasting over her. The dance competition was a fundraiser and Lance had signed them up, gathering from somewhere that she was a dancer. It was true, she had taken dance lessons as a child, but ballet was very different to dancing the samba. It had been a comedy of errors but the first time she’d allowed herself to have fun after her breakup and the first time she started to see Lance as more than just someone who got on her nerves a lot with his loud personality and bad jokes.

Lance steps back into her space, one hand on the small of her back, the other entwining their fingers. He moves slowly, as though giving her plenty of time to get used to him sneaking into her space, giving her plenty of time to protest or push him back.

She finds that pushing him away is the last thing she wants to do.

Her breath catches in her lungs as her heart rate seems to spike. She’s grateful they’ve moved away from the bright lights of the festival and the crowds to stand here in the dark at the river’s edge. In the darkness, she feels a little bit fearless, like the weight of her baggage isn’t so noticeable. Here in the low light cast from the city buildings, she feels like it could be a fresh start for her. Something new and precious and untainted. She wants to lean into the subtle promise that Lance offers her and let herself find her joy again.

Let herself love again.

They’re alone here now. Alone where no one can see the way her cheeks heat or the way her lips part as she tilts her head up, letting her eyes fall closed in anticipation of the kiss she’s sure will come, the kiss she suddenly, desperately wants to feel.

No one can see the way she’s left floundering when Lance suddenly drops his hand and turns away, leaving her blinking in the darkness with her face burning.

“I’m sorry, Allura,” he says sadly as he moves to the side. She can’t see his face but his shoulders are slumped.

The flutter of her heart, the quiet yearning and affection that had been building so subtly inside her she hadn’t realised it was there until it was suddenly going unmet, steals the air from her lungs.

A long, bewildering moment of silence crashes between them. The blood roars in her ears.

Eventually he turns around and she snaps a hand out to curl her fingers around the end of his tie and yanks him forward. He yelps but doesn’t fight or try to pull back.

She searches his face, letting her gaze trace over the planes of his cheeks and jaw. Over a face that had become one of her favourites.

“Allura,” he whispers weakly.

“Are you messing with me?” she demands. She doesn’t let go of his tie. It’s been loosened over the evening so she knows it’s not causing him discomfort.

He blinks at her, slim brows creasing his forehead in confusion.

She tugs again, a silent demand for an answer.

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then what do you want from me? When we’re together, you’re always making me laugh, you check in on me, you make me smile… you look at me like I mean something to you. You held my hand tonight – but you won’t kiss me?”

She hates the way her voice suddenly cracks on the last few words and she abruptly drops her grip on the tie as though she’s been burned. Lance looks at her with what she can only describe as his heart in his eyes, like he has so many times before, until she harshly reminds herself she’s clearly misread him.

It wounds a little. She had found herself opening up, she had found herself falling, expecting Lance to be the one to catch her, only for him to turn away the moment she thought he was going to kiss her.

“I care about you, Allura,” Lance says quietly. He doesn’t meet her eyes. “I care about you a lot. And we work together. I don’t want to mess this up and... and I know I will. I always do.”

Some of the burn inside her fades at his softly uttered words. “Lance-“

“I’d rather have you as just a friend than not have you in my life at all,” he cuts in, almost angrily now. He runs a hand through his hair and spins away, taking a handful of steps before turning back and striding to her side. His gaze is imploring as he stares into her eyes and takes her hand. “Your friendship is important to me. I like you. I like you a lot, Allura. And I don’t want to mess that up.”

There’s a beat of silence before he offers her a weak smile and drops her hand. He does it reluctantly, even in the reflected light leaking from the festival, she can see the disinclination in his eyes.

Allura breathes in and the hint of his cologne teases her senses. His warmth still reaches for her and his hands are only just out of reach. For the first time in a long time, there is something bright blooming inside her, filling the cracks in the devastation from her past. Perhaps it’s selfish of her, but she realises with suddenly, blinding clarity that she wants him.

“I like you too, Lance,” she tells him softly.

It seems there was a lot Lance had been prepared for her to say, but those soft words weren’t quite it. He frowns once before slowly lifting his head. His gaze settles on her, wariness behind his eyes.

“You… you do?”

“Yes.” She reaches for his hand, linking their fingers together. There’s a slight tremble but she’s not sure if it’s from him or her. “Very much. I see you for who you are, someone brave and selfless and kind. I see it every day. You give so much of yourself and never think to ask for anything in return. Kiss me, Lance.”

“Allura,” he croaks out and his fingers tighten against hers but he doesn’t move. The way he says her name makes it sound like he’s struggling, like he’s heartbroken. “I don’t… I don’t want this to be just a casual thing. I’m sorry, I know that’s too much to ask so soon but I-“

He shakes his head. He doesn’t smile.

“But what?” she whispers. It feels like they’re on the cusp of something here, teetering dangerously together. She focuses on his words and hopes to find a solid foundation there. “Tell me, Lance.”

His eyes glitter. “I know it’s only our first date but… I want to be your family. I want to be with you as long as you’ll have me. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

She breathes out his name and her heart swells inside her chest. Something about the air around them seems to shift and echo and it feels a lot like her orbit has found a new path.

“I want to be your girlfriend,” she tells him earnestly, squeezing his hand.

He stares at her, not quite believing. “Really?”

“Yes,” she laughs again and once again curls her fingers around his tie and tugs him down to press their foreheads together. There’s a wetness on her cheeks she doesn’t care to examine too closely.

His hands snake around her waist as she loops her arms around his neck.

“I have to warn you,” he whispers. “I’m already a little in love with you.”

“A little?”

“Okay, a lot. Like…. _a lot.”_

She laughs and leans back so that she can stare into his face. She releases one hand from her grip around his neck and lifts it to trail her fingertips down his cheek. His eyes go a little dark with something she can’t name and then their eyes are falling shut as their lips drift together. Their first kiss is sweet and chaste, a gentle press that doesn’t quite hide the soaring lightness inside her chest. It doesn’t hide his either and when they break apart, they both gasp slightly.

Lance smiles at her, his grin a little sloppy and a lot dazed. She likes that she has that effect on him.

“So… you’re my girlfriend now?”

She laughs softly. “Yes.”

There’s a flash of wonder in his eyes before his face splits and he gathers her up in his arms, whooping loudly before he puts her down. He kisses her cheek quickly then skips away, throwing his hands up to the heavens.

“She’s my girlfriend!” he yells into the darkness. She covers her mouth with her fingers to stifle her giggle.

He trots back to her side, laughing with eyes bright. Her heart swells in her chest and as the night curls around them, she can feel the heavy shackles of her past falling away.

There’s a freedom to giving her heart away. A freedom in giving it to Lance.

She knows it will be safe with him.

 

* * *

 

It’s just past dawn when Keith wanders into the local coffee shop to place his order ahead of his extra shift that day. He’s about to line up when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Only one of two people would call him at this obscenely early hour of the morning and one of them was his boss who he’s already spoken to so he knows without looking that it’s going to be Lance.

He hits answer on the phone and holds it up to his ear.

“How’d the date go?”

“Good man. No, great! I have a girlfriend now.”

In spite of himself, Keith can’t hold back the quiet grin. “Yeah? Finally. I’m glad you guys sorted it out.”

There’s a rustling sound on the other side of the line before Lance answers. “She’s amazing, Keith. We were up all night talking. She’s so smart, and funny and beautiful-“

Keith’s attention to Lance’s words wavers as he eyes a group of people in running gear walking up the street. They look like they’re making a beeline for the coffee shop so Keith slides into line behind a tall man with a truckers cap pulled down low. If he doesn’t get his coffee and get to work on time, Trigel’s going to kick his ass.

Lance is still chattering in his ear.

“That’s great buddy,” he says distractedly, dimly noting the way the man in front of him has one sleeve pinned up where his arm should be. The man’s head is bowed low and he seems to be struggling with something in his pocket.

Keith doesn’t think beyond leaning around the tall man and swipes his credit chit against the counter. A beep sounds to confirm payment has been made and the barista nods at him.

“Uh, thank you,” the tall man says. He has a nice voice.

Keith juggles his phone against his ear. “No sweat,” he says without looking up. He quickly places his own order before tuning back into the conversation on the end of the line.

“So now we have to find one for you,” Lance is saying.

“I don’t want a girlfriend, Lance. Not my… uh-“

“I know, idiot. No, I mean a boyfriend. Then we can double date!”

Keith rolls his eyes even though he knows Lance can’t see it. “Don’t we spend enough time together at work as it is?”

The barista hands the tall man his drink and then he moves out of the way. Keith is too focused on Lance’s irritating chatter to pay much attention. He watches the barista brew his coffee instead.

“Come on, Keith. Don’t be such a wet blanket! I’ll find you someone. Being in love is great! You should try it.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that one,” Keith says dryly.

“Hmm,” Lance hums. “One day I’m going to find you your perfect match.”

“Sure,” Keith says easily, not really putting much stock in his friend’s words. “See you on Monday.”

He hangs up the call just as the barista hands him his drink. He cradles it like it’s the most precious thing on earth and thanks the barista before turning on his heel and walking outside.

In spite of himself, the conversation with Lance replays in his head and he finds his mouth threatening to curve into a smile. He’s happy for Lance and Allura and an errant thought skips through his mind wondering what it would be like to find someone of his own before he snorts ungracefully to himself and continues down the street.

If there’s someone out there for him, Keith has no idea where he might be.


End file.
